Time Defier
by grumkinsnark
Summary: When Hermione makes a potion to take her 19 years in the past and meets a young Sirius, will knowledge be her only pursuit, or will something else get in the way?
1. Bevroren

**Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me (except for perhaps the plot). But you knew that.**

**One other note: This is in progress of being revamped, which is why this chapter may seem better than successive ones. In case you were wondering.**

* * *

**Time Defyer**

_Chapter I: Bevroren_

* * *

"But Professor, I really do need to finish this potion," Hermione pleaded. "It'll just take ten minutes, I promise. Please may I?"

Snape sneered at her, his beady black eyes expressionless. Apart from contempt, that is. Hermione wondered if the man had _ever_ possessed anything but apathetic derision before. She doubted it. "No," he replied coldly. "Now run along before I take points away from you for annoying a teacher. Put away your ingredients first and then leave this room."

She looked at him with deepest disgust as she rounded up the various components to the potion they had been working on and darted up to the cabinet, storing them quickly back where they belonged. From experience she knew it was quite best not to linger. Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she walked over to the door, but paused with her fingers on the handle. She cast a glance toward the cabinet again and then calculated how long it really would take her to finish her potion, finding her previous estimate was correct.

Her eyes cast to the floor in apprehension about what the small diabolical part of her mind was telling her to do, she finally made up her mind. Turning around on her heel, she gave Snape a grimace. "Sorry, Professor," she said. His mouth opened in scolding, but before any sound came out, she muttered, "_Bevroren_."

Unable to help a little smile escaping her at the genius of her spell, she took no more than five seconds collecting the ingredients that she'd replaced a minute or so ago and rushed out of the room before Snape unfroze (she didn't know exactly how long the spell lasted; after all, she'd just found out about it that afternoon) and skinned her alive. Or, worse, taken points from Gryffindor.

* * *

Eight minutes and seven floors later, Hermione rushed into the dormitory that she shared with the other Gryffindor girls of her year. Seeing as how it was the start of dinner, the room was all to herself, which suited Hermione just fine. Taking an unnecessary glance around the place, she locked the door and then placed all the ingredients on her bedside table. She set up the cauldron and conjured a fire underneath it, quickly pouring the liquid of the potion she'd started on, where it quickly was brought to a boil.

After adding the herbs and creature parts the splattered book required (but leaving out one), she smiled as the concoction slowly deepened to a pearly blue-green color that smelled absolutely delectable. Which would make it that much easier to swallow. Without a second glance, she poured the contents into a glass vial and stoppered it, stowing it in her pocket where she knew she'd access it soon.

Not wanting to have herself found out, she Vanished the fluid, extinguished the fire, and stowed her cauldron next to her bed; she wouldn't be needing it where she was going. Stuffing a change of clothes, _Hogwarts, A History_, a picture of her, Ron, and Harry, and a notebook and pen where she knew she would document her adventures into her bag, she raced out the now-unlocked door and down to the Great Hall. Saying goodbye would be hard, but she knew the reason for it was well qualified.

* * *

"Hermione, what took you so long?" Ron asked her as he ate a bite of sausage. As per usual, he didn't wait to swallow before asking a question.

Hermione glared at him, and Harry also cast him a look of mild nausea. Even Harry had his limits on how much grossing out he could take. "Really, Ron," Hermione admonished as she started filling up her plate. "Could you _please_ finish your food before speaking? It is not nearly as endearing as you may think it is."

Ron made a face at her but swallowed nonetheless. "That didn't answer the question," he said.

Harry looked at her with curiosity. "Yeah, where were you?" he said. "You had Potions last, yeah? I would have thought you'd've scampered out of there just as everyone else."

"Oh, fine, you don't have to beat it out of me!" Hermione relented. "I had to retrieve my potion from his class and finish it up in my dormitory. Hence my tardiness."

"Somehow I doubt Snape let you just take it out of the room," Harry said suspiciously. Hermione looked at him in guilt. "Hermione, what did you _do_?"

Looking at their accusingly prying faces, she knew she'd not be able to lie to them. "What would you say if I told you Snape potentially may have possibly froze as he started to reprimand me?"

Harry and Ron exchanged a look before turning back to her, mouths agape. "Are you admitting you performed a spell on a _teacher_?" Ron gasped.

"I wouldn't put it quite so harshly, but you've got the gist of it," Hermione replied snappishly. "And anyway, it was a necessity."

"And how is attacking a teacher a necessity?" Harry questioned. "Even if it is Snape, that isn't exactly orthodox, Hermione, let alone for you."

"It was a necessity because if it wasn't done by tonight at sunset it wouldn't have worked," Hermione said. "It would have taken another three months to have all the elements ripe and brewed."

"You've been working on this for three months?" Ron asked.

"No, Ron," Hermione retorted in exasperation. "I only found the book today. By luck, Snape had everything in its prime so I got to skip those months. Were I to have to rebrew it, it would take that much longer."

"Okay, what potion is this, then? What potion, pray tell, would cause you to go to such lengths?"

"It's called a Defying Time potion," Hermione answered proudly. Ron and Harry cast her blank looks, but this time Hermione couldn't exactly blame them, considering she hadn't known about it either. "Basically it allows the user to go back up to thirty years in the past or future, depending, of course, on if you add the Essence of Cremlyte or not."

"Okay, pretending I know nothing about how obviously Dark and Restricted that book and potion is, you're not seriously thinking of using it, are you?" Harry lectured incredulously.

"Oh, of course not," Hermione said sarcastically. "I was only doing it for the hell of it. It's a wonderful air freshener."

Harry sighed heavily at her sardonicism. "So why exactly would you need to go thirty years to the past or future? I mean, it's not as if there was a huge change in the world," he said. "Granted, the sixties were a little sketchy, the whole LSD thing lasting into the seventies, and the future probably won't alter the entire planet by 2026 (okay, perhaps, but that's beside the point)…so what do you need to find out?"

"Well, first of all, I'm not going to go thirty years," Hermione edited. "More like nineteen or so; I left out those pesky Cremlytes. There's just something I wanted to figure out."

"And what's that exactly?" Ron asked warily.

Hermione gave the both of them a beatific smile, taking one last swig of pumpkin juice. "I'll tell you when I get back, I promise," she said, smiling fondly.

"Don't you _dare_, Hermione!" Harry seethed.

But it was too late—before he could grab her, she had uncorked the bottle and downed it in one gulp. In front of Ron and Harry's very eyes, she vanished in a puff of amber smoke, the two men staring at it in amazement. They hadn't even got a proper look at the glass bottle—just the hint of a bright blue liquid before it, too, vaporized. Had they been able to look around, they would have found that not one soul noticed. Later, they would go on to think that either they'd imagined the smoke, or else it was only they meant to see it.

* * *

_Well, I hope that was a better chapter than beforehand. It's only slightly longer than the original, but oh well. Of course if there are new viewers to this story, you'll have no idea what I'm talking about, but for those of you who decided to bless me with returning here, you'll know what I mean. Anyway, drop a review if you feel so inclined, and I'll be returning with a newly edited chapter in the near future._


	2. Disillusionment

**Time Defyer**

_Chapter II: Disillusionment_

* * *

**??/1977**

Hermione had never experienced the particular feeling as she traveled through time and space. It was just about as peculiar as the potion she made…well, perhaps more to be honest. Colors and shapes were blurring past her so quickly she almost felt dizzy, yet she found she couldn't tear herself away from looking. Nothing was really recognizable, but she did get the sense that she was getting very close to no longer being in the nineties anymore.

After an indeterminable amount of time—Hermione really could not tell whether it'd been five minutes or five days—she felt the strange vertigo that had been surrounding her disappear and she abruptly slammed into a very hard, very cold bit of floor. She winced, but immediately regretted it as it sent a wave of pain through her head.

"Ow…" she groaned. "Why couldn't I have landed in a softer spot?"

Her breath caught in her chest when she heard a boy's voice reach her ears; worse yet, he couldn't have been more than a few rooms from her. She did recognize the tone, however, which was that of a prefect. "Everyone back to their dormitories! It is approaching curfew. That means you four, too! Now!"

She didn't recognize the voice, but judging by the few pairs of footsteps she heard coming her way, she figured now would be a very good time to move. Mainly considering the fact that she would raise a lot of questions should someone find her in the middle of the floor, bruised, and very unaccounted for. As she glanced frantically around the room, she realized she definitely should have thought this more through. Unfortunately, that was well in retrospect and for the moment, she had to get out of sight quickly.

The voices and steps coming nearer, she placed her wand tip on her head and muttered the only spell that sprang to mind. A moment later, a relatively unpleasant trickling of cold made its way down her back, and when she looked down at herself she got the odd sensation of seeing yourself blending in with the surroundings. Nevertheless, the spell worked, and she was free to observe without being seen herself. The charm was uttered not a moment too soon, either: not but a couple seconds after she was Disillusioned, four decidedly male bodies came through the door, but from the way they were angled, she was unable to see their faces. It didn't, however, prevent her from coming into the middle of their conversation.

"So, Padfoot, how's that thing going with Catharine? Last I heard, you two were getting pretty hot and heavy," one of their voices said. "Or is that just grapevine talking? You've been pretty mum on the subject lately…"

"Watch it, Prongs," another voice growled.

Immediately, the two nicknames registered in her brain and produced multiple reactions: amazement that she was in the presence of the legendary marauders, sadness at the fact that they had no idea what was to come, guilt that Harry should be here, but most of all ecstasy in knowing her potion _worked_. That alone was enough to make her grin stupidly. To get her bearings, she took a more comprehensive surveying of the room she was in, to find it was more than a little familiar. The red-and-gold theme, single roaring fireplace, plush armchairs, and dual staircases could only mean she had landed herself in the middle of the Gryffindor common room. It gave her a bit of a heady feeling (though, she conceded, it could have had something to do with transporting herself nearly twenty years, too).

"I can't believe it!" she breathed, effectively forgetting she wasn't quite alone.

"Who are you?"

"Can't believe what?"

"_Where_ are you?"

"What's going on?"

The color and smile drained from her face as she looked up to see the voices that had spoken simultaneously, the fact that she was virtually invisible escaping her. Overwhelmed by embarrassment and the surreality of it all, she found herself effectively unable to speak. After all, it wasn't every day you came face-to-face with four people that were either much older or dead in your own time. Three pairs of eyes were warily looking around the room, unable to see her, but one was focused exactly where she was; through her franticness, she had to commend him for seeing the supposedly unseeable. Regrettably, this also meant that she would have more explaining to do…she honestly doubted he'd not notify the others of her position, which would invariably lead to her much-needed explanation of why she was here. Let alone why she was concealed.

_Merlin help me…_ she thought frantically, taking in their very expectant and suspicious faces.

* * *

**1996**

"Aw, shit…" It was the only thing either one of them had been capable of thinking at the moment, Ron being the one to actually utter the words.

The two of them exchanged a look of sheer dread laced with horror and astoundment. Harry inclined his head toward the doors of the Great Hall, silently (for he still was unable to speak) telling Ron to meet him outside. Ron nodded and got up from the table, doing his best to appear not fraught with disbelief as he ambled across the floor. Harry, on the other hand, tapped Ginny on the shoulder and leaned over once she turned to him.

He cleared his throat, forcing his vocal chords to function. "Ron and I have got to leave," he said quietly. "We've just remembered this assignment for Astronomy…the, er, the star we have to document is apparently only visible during the hours of four to eight, and it's approaching the latter time, so…"

Ginny raised an eyebrow at him, and he grimaced internally at both having to lie to her and how bad of a lie it was in the first place. Saving him from that, though, she happened to glance to Ron's vacated seat. "Hey, where's Hermione?" Ginny demanded.

"Oh…er…she left a minute or so ago," Harry said offhandedly.

"She did no such thing!" Ginny objected, her face fiercely set into a scowl. "Harry, what's going on?"

Knowing he literally had no time to waste, Harry looked at her apologetically. "I'll tell you later, Ginny, I promise!" he said, giving her a swift kiss on the cheek nad skittering away after Ron.

"HARRY!" Ginny's voice nearly made him stop and go back to grovel for forgiveness—he knew he'd be in for it next time he saw her—but at the moment it was Hermione who took precedence.

Ron, as expected, was waiting a few suits of armor away from the doors, the din of the Great Hall a mere buzz now. Ron glared at him. "Sorry," Harry said. "Had to lie to your sister. Horribly, I might add."

Ron shook it off. "Okay, forget Ginny," he said dismissively. "More importantly, what are we going to do about this? I mean, we can't just leave Hermione! Where the hell did she even _go_? _When_ did she go?"

Harry exhaled deeply, willing the cogs in his mind to work faster. To his fury, they didn't. "I don't know," he answered, gritting his teeth at the very unhelpful response. "I'd like to say she's perfectly fine and knew exactly what she was doing—is doing?—but the more irrational part of me is saying nothing of the sort."

"That's not exactly helpful, Harry!" Ron spat, his ears turning red in anger. Harry let Ron's irritation slide off of him; in matters concerning Hermione, particularly life-threatening ones, he often got quite emotional. Not that Harry wasn't, but he at least was trying to keep as level a head as possible. "We've got to go after her."

"How exactly do you propose we do that, Ron?" Harry asked. "We've no idea where she went! I mean, all she said was nineteen years in the past—wait…nineteen years, Ron…"

"Nineteen? And that means what?" he retorted. Then, a moment later, comprehension dawned on his face, removing some of the rage. "What would she want with your parents, Harry?"

"I haven't the slightest clue," Harry answered, confusion muddling his mind. He cursed himself for not registering the date when Hermione had first told them, but somehow he doubted she'd have told him anyway. "What I _do_ know is that we at least need to find out more about this potion thing of hers. Maybe there's a a return spell or something?"

It was a last resort, Harry knew, but at that time it was the only thing they had. "Maybe," Ron agreed gravely. "If it's a book of Hermione's, it'll be one of two places: her dorm or…or the library."

"Let's try the library first," Harry suggested. "That way we can both search for the book and come up with a semi-plausible explanation for why we need to coerce either Lavender or Parvati to go snooping through Hermione's belongings for a book we don't know the title of."

Ron nodded in depressed agreement. "Well, off to the library then. All I have to say is that when we get Hermione back, she's in for _hell_."

Harry clapped his friend on the back as they walked briskly down the halls. He realized full well they wouldn't get much time looking through the stacks tonight, but he decided to refrain telling Ron that. He had a sinking feeling he'd be digging out the Invisibility Cloak sooner rather than later.

* * *

_Well, this editing was almost two times longer than the original…fantastic. I would have lengthened it even further, but in interest of not wanting to completely reorder the story and probably make it shorter in amount of chapters than it already is, I've decided to just leave you with shorter chapter _lengths_. I hope it's not too much of a heartache for you._


	3. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs

**Time Defyer**

_Chapter III: Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs  
_

* * *

**1977**

"If you move, I'll be forced to stop you." Hermione sighed at the voice that undeniably belonged to her old professor. He may have been two decades younger, but he had certainly already developed the tone of authority.

"Stop _who_?" rang the three others concurrently. They apparently hadn't realized at what—or whom—Lupin was staring.

"Disillusion yourself and start talking," Lupin demanded, slowly reaching to his back pocket where Hermione was sure his wand rested.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione nodded and pointed her own wand at her head once more, muttering the reverse incantation. The warm trickle and three gasps indicated to her that once more she was visible. Only Lupin was the one who stayed still, though Hermione did swear she saw a bit of respect for her enchantment in his eyes. Disillusionment was, after all, advanced magic in its own right.

"Holy shit!" the man to the left of Lupin exclaimed unabashedly. "Where'd you come from? Moony, how'd you know she was there?"

In spite of everything, Hermione had to restrain a laugh. He was, without a doubt, the infamous Sirius Black; except in this time, infamous for being the heartthrob bad boy. She hardly recognized him, and probably wouldn't have if he hadn't been with the rest of the Marauders, or at least if she hadn't been so familiar with his eyes. She'd come to know they told a lot about a person. That they really were the windows to a person's soul. Sirius's were no exception, and the stormy gray irises in this Sirius matched the hues of the future Sirius, barring the amount of cheerfulness in them. Apart from that, though, Hermione wasn't so oblivious as to not be able to see how Sirius could be interpreted as attractive. With careless black hair that fell into his eyes, tanned skin, and expression constantly full of a hidden (or not so hidden as the cases could be) smile, he was obviously every girl's fantasy. Now, however, was hardly the time for such observations.

"Honestly, Sirius, it amazes me how blind you can be," Lupin admonished, keeping his eyes firmly on Hermione's. "However, I suppose that ignorance should be devoted to James and Peter as well. As excellent as the spellwork may have been, Disillusionment charms are always able to be detected. They are meant for disguising, not for disappearing."

Hermione tried not to take the indirect compliment to heart as she kept her stoicism. "I'm going to pretend you didn't just offend me and suggest before we start the whole interrogation business we at least get some food," the man to Sirius's left interjected.

For a split second, Hermione had been sure she was back in 1996 and speaking to Harry. Not only was the comment something Harry would say (though admittedly it was more of Ron's department), but he could have been Harry's twin. His dark hazel eyes were a far cry from Harry's emerald ones and James's physique was substantially more muscular, but the hair, glasses, and stance were all identical. Hermione forced herself not to say some sarcastic comment as she would if he were Harry, lest she dig herself into an even deeper hole.

"As for the second question," Lupin continued, ignoring James's comment, "I'd like to know that myself."

Hermione was all too aware of the deafening silence that followed Lupin's words, and knew quite well it was her turn to speak. "Erm…yes…hello…" she stammered, cursing herself for it being _now_, the most inopportune moment, that her eloquence had to fail her.

Still, it was hard to get over the strangeness of the situation. So far, each of them had proven his persona identical to what she'd heard. Lupin the shrewd scholar, James the sardonic athlete, Sirius the joking poster boy, and Peter the—Hermione's eyes darted to him immediately, his speech interrupting her suddenly unpleasant musings.

"Articulate, isn't she?" Peter snickered.

As he talked, she took in his appearance with disgust. As objective as she could be, she still couldn't figure out how the Marauders had decided to induct Peter into their group. Pudgy, pale, height-challenged, watery-eyed, and with a mop of tawny hair meant to resemble Sirius's—it fell miserably short of its goal—he was thoroughly nondescript and unsightly. Just looking at him made her clench her fingers around her wand and grit her teeth in order to prevent herself from attacking him.

"Shut up," she snapped, not expecting James to have joined her in saying it.

She looked at him in gratitude, but had not expected his gaze to be cold and calculating. "I think it's high time you explained," he said firmly. "Where are you from?"

Hermione nearly thanked him in relief at the way he posed the question. It saved her, at least for this current second, a very difficult situation. "To be honest, a very long ways away," she answered truthfully enough.

"Well, we've never seen you before, but you obviously didn't Apparate in, so you're either worse than You-Know-Who on the Dark magic scale or you're some sort of exchange student," James deduced.

Hermione didn't want to lie, but she knew now would be the start of many. "I'm in no way involved in any black magic," she answered. "So yes, I suppose you could call me an exchange student."

Lupin still looked cautious, but James seemed to accept it. Sirius, she found out, did as well when he grabbed her hand and shook it unreservedly. "Then welcome," he said with a grin.

Somehow, however, judging by Lupin's expression, she knew her troubles were far from over. Regardless of what Sirius said.

* * *

**1996**

Harry heaved closed what seemed his five-hundredth book that night—this one entitled _Time and Its Uses_—and he took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes wearily. After a brief respite to get the Invisibility Cloak like he'd anticipated, they had come in after Madam Pince left and began perusing the shelves once more. Looking across the table, he could tell Ron was having about the same luck as he. That is to say, none.

"We're _never_ going to find it in here," Harry whispered dishearteningly. "We've looked through every book imaginable that could have to do with time travel and come up with nothing."

Ron nodded in concurrence as he snapped his book shut, too. "We still can't just leave her there," he objected.

"I know that," Harry said. "Don't you think I want to get her back? Who knows what she could have done to alter history by going back to my parents…and Professor Lupin…and Sirius…and Wormtail? I mean, she—wait. _Wormtail_. Ron, do you know what this means? She has the chance to end this forever!"

Ron shook his head sadly. "Mate, I want You-Know-Who as dead and gone just as much as you do, but that isn't the way to do it. You do realize that by doing that it could mean you never being born? I'm not sure how exactly, but I'm sure time and space can scramble events around enough to make it happen. I wish it were that easy to finish You-Know-Who, but I don't think that's how it's supposed to go."

Harry's mouth was open in protest, but no sound came out. "I suppose you're right," he consented finally. "I just wish there was a way to contact her or something. Just see if she's all right. Maybe even ask her how everyone is over there. You know, I kinda wish it'd've been me who traveled there…would have been amazing to see everyone."

Ron half-smiled at him sympathetically. "I think it's time we talked to Parvati," he said. A few weeks ago it probably would have been Lavender, but even in the wizarding world it was never comfortable to talk to an ex about the girl who had been the main cause of the breakup in the first place.


	4. Dumbledore

**Time Defyer**

_Chapter IV: Dumbledore_

* * *

**1977**

"Well, how about you sit down and tell us more about you," James suggested, his light tone not quite as sincere as Hermione guessed he meant it to be.

Knowing she had no other option—she surmised Lupin wouldn't let her get off that easy—she hesitatingly took one of the armchairs and readied herself for the web of lies she was irrefutably going to spew momentarily. "Yeah…if you're an exchange student, which we've not had many of, how come you're here?" Sirius questioned.

Hermione called upon her imagination to help save her, and then faked a sad expression. "Well, for starters, my name is Hermione Granger," she said carefully. She guessed there was no way they knew any Grangers, and she wasn't creative enough on the spot to come up with an alias, so she settled for her real name. "As for why I'm here…er…my parents were killed in 1964 in a subway accident—they were quite fascinated with the Muggle world, which ended up leading to their demise—and I was sent to live with my grandparents…I'd been homeschooled" she decided not to tell them she was Muggle-born at this particular time "up until now, but then Gran got sick and I was too much for Grandpa to take care of by himself. So they resolved to finally send me to Hogwarts, where they and my parents had both gone."

She had to admit, the falsehood was pretty good, given the short notice. James looked appropriately pitying, and she thought Lupin's hard stare had softened a bit. Maybe. "Why were you homeschooled if your grandparents obviously approved of Hogwarts in the first place?" he asked.

"To be honest, they were too shaken by my parents' deaths…they wanted to keep me close to them," Hermione said, nearly snorting in disbelief at her first three words. "But we all knew that Gran needed as much care as she could get, and I realized Grandpa would feel guilty about not being able to spend a lot of time with me, so I suggested Hogwarts. He knew it at once, of course, and in the end conceded that it was the right thing to do. I was a little leery of coming here, but from everything I'd read and from my grandparents' own accounts, Hogwarts is a good place for me to be. And here I am."

"I'm sorry to hear about your parents," Sirius said, seemingly genuine, "but they and you were right—Hogwarts is the best place to go. You'll be happy enough here."

"Did you clear your stay with Dumbledore?" Lupin questioned.

Hermione willed her face not to go blank of color. "Of course," she answered. _That's going to be the first thing on my to-do list here,_ Hermione thought.

Lupin nodded slowly, then glanced at his watch. "Well, I'm sorry to cut this short, but it's time to go to class, mates," he said, referring to James, Sirius, and Peter. He turned to Hermione then. "I hope you can find your classes all right. We'd help you, but we'll be late."

_Yeah, like James or Sirius really care_, she mused sarcastically. But she said, "Yeah, I'll be fine. One of the prefects—I regretfully have forgotten his name—showed me earlier today. Thank you anyway, though."

James looked like he wanted to hear more about her, but Sirius dragged him up. They bid her a half-hearted goodbye and exited the room, with the claim that they were going to their Defense class. She wasn't sure if they really were, but she had enough things on her mind than to worry about that. Waiting until they were out of earshot, she started pacing, a habit she was trying to break but so far was unsuccessful.

"Okay, let's review my options," she mumbled to herself. "I could either go to Dumbledore or McGonagall and tell them what I did—all right, that's the first thing; now what of the second?. After that, I suppose I could stay with the transfer student idea and use that as my official cover-up, even with the Headmaster. Lastly, I could…well, that one I've no clue. I suppose I've only got one option then. Fantastic."

With that undesirable thought in her mind, she picked up her bag and set off into the hallway, swiftly making her way down six flights of stairs to where she knew Dumbledore's office was. She barely had time to take in the slight differences of this Hogwarts as opposed to the Hogwarts she knew; she was trying to navigate her way to the two gargoyles that guarded the Headmaster's stairs. Finally, after missing a turn or two, she caught site of the stone statues and walked purposefully up to them.

"I'd like to speak to Professor Dumbledore, please," she said hopefully.

The one on the right cackled, replying in a gravelly voice, "No can do, missy. You'll be needing the password."

"I was afraid of that," Hermione sighed. She cleared her throat, wracking her brain for all the candies she could think of. "Fizzing Whizbees? Lemon drops? Cockroach Clusters? Pumpkin Pasty? Ton-Tongue Toffee? Bl—"

"Congratulations on your guess," the other gargoyle interrupted. Hermione wasn't sure which candy was the password, but at the moment she didn't really care.

She muttered a thanks as the statues stepped aside, leaving her free to take the stairs two at a time. In a few seconds, she reached the door and knocked. Of its own accord, the door opened, revealing Professor Dumbledore sitting calmly at his desk, fingers pressed together as if he expected her. There was, however, a bit of curiosity reflected in his blue eyes.

"Sit down, my dear," he said placidly. Hermione felt a small rush of confidence at the fact that Dumbledore didn't seem cautious of her.

"Thank you," she said, taking a deep breath. "Okay, I'm going to be frank and quick about this, because I really am not sure how much time I'll have before someone talks to you first." Dumbledore waited for her to continue. "My name is Hermione Granger, and I am from near twenty years in the future. Long story short, I was meddling with a Defying Time potion in order to see both if it worked and if I could alter a certain event. If your intent is to lecture me, I ask that you skip it, because I already know the consequences of it. They were (perhaps naïvely, I suppose) taken into account when I made and executed the potion, so I know what I was doing. I only ask if I may reside here in your school while I undertake my endeavor. It's more than I deserve, I know, but if you're anything like your future self, you'll at least consider my question."

She winced in waiting for his reaction, but he surprised her with a quiet chuckle. "I admire your tenacity, Miss Granger," he said in a level voice. "And while I cannot commend what you have done by any means, it seems that nothing I say or do will stop you. Even more than that, if I _were_ to stop you, it could alter the future worse than what you will do. You are welcome to stay here—I will have a bed made up for you, but I'm afraid it will be separate from the other Gryffindor girls' (I am assuming, by your robes, that you are Gryffindor). If you stand opposite the staircases and utter the words _Revelio lectus_, a third staircase will appear that leads solely to your room. Likewise, if you utter _Evanesco lectus_, it will vanish. I'd like to say you'd be welcome to join in classes, but I'm afraid I must decline. I only ask that you stay out of the way as much as possible. If indeed you are looking to change one sole event, it is imperative that you stay out of other matters."

"Thank you, Sir," Hermione said, hardly able to believe her luck. She wondered if Dumbledore had perhaps seen the future or something…either that or she was more persuasive than she'd thought.

"But Miss Granger," Dumbledore said then, his voice deep and warning. "Do know that what you are doing is highly dangerous and anything resulting from your actions could be a grave and serious problem which will be yours and yours alone to remedy. I must add that meddling with time and space is very frowned upon by the Ministry. If I hear you've been a disruption, I will be forced to report you."

"Yes, Sir," she said, her confidence diminishing. "I understand, Sir. Thank you."

"Goodbye," Dumbledore said calmly. "I hope you find what you are looking for."

"So do I," Hermione said dismally as she exited Dumbledore's office.

Once she turned her back, she thought she heard him give a quiet sigh, but when she peeked over her shoulder, he was studiously involved in some whirligig of sorts. Shaking her head at herself, Hermione walked slowly down the stairs and past the snickering gargoyles, who abruptly shut off the passage behind her.

Now sure of which hallway she was in, Hermione felt a sudden surge of confidence, despite how disappointed she still was over her situation. Realizing she had the go-ahead from Dumbledore which ensured her inability to be sent away, she smiled a little to herself and set off down the corridor, drinking everything in around her. It was an odd sort of feeling: everything was the same, and yet somehow different. She hadn't expected Hogwarts to change that much in two decades, but whether it was her imagination or not, Hermione thought the air felt somewhat altered.

The thing she immediately noticed was that the hall was virtually silent. Apart from the occasional teacher who gave her a nod in greeting (most didn't take a second glance at her; she figured it was because they thought she was legitimately a 1970s Hogwarts student), a student skipping and expertly making their way around authority figures, or a ghost flitting in and out of walls. It wasn't altogether that much different from the Hogwarts Hermione knew.

Coming around a bend, she recognized her Transfiguration classroom, and felt the urge to slip into the class and simply observe the class, to see how it differed from how McGonagall taught it in Hermione's year. She refrained, however, when she remembered that no one knew her here and she would be in quite a sticky situation if she simply barged in and interrupted. Her mood slightly lower, she peered into other classrooms inconspicuously.

They were fairly unexciting, for the most part: Professor Binns was teaching a group of Hufflepuffs, ninety percent of which were asleep; a thirty-something, nice-looking man was instructing what looked like a Potions class; a creature she recognized instantly as a grindylow swam around in its cage in the next room, and Hermione chuckled to herself when thinking of Lupin teaching it…then she'd remembered he was probably _in _the class.

She was about to try and point him out when a very familiar, very undesired voice nearly scared her out of her wits. She turned abruptly around, and sneered at the poltergeist, who she was now determined not to let get the best of her. Oddly enough, though, the look he gave her was not only of mischief…it looked like he actually knew her.

Her heart rate quickened in betrayal. _But that's not possible_, Hermione coached herself. _No one apart from Dumbledore could possibly know who I am! Right?_

* * *

**1996**

After about twenty minutes of trying to guess the password to Dumbledore's office, Ron desperately shouted out "Ton-Tongue Toffees," and, to both his and Harry's surprise, the gargoyles sprang aside to let them through. Harry and Ron exchanged a glance of relative mirth (Harry recollected fondly upon the time when Dudley had been on the receiving end of a few of the candies) before jogging up the stairs. To their misfortune, Professor McGonagall noticed them and was only seconds behind, wondering just what they were up to this time.

The two sixth years knocked frantically on the office door, and Dumbledore calmly replied with his customary "Enter," the door opening of its own accord.

They walked in briskly, Professor McGonagall swift on their heels. Only slightly out of breath, she shut the door firmly behind herself and examined the two now surprised (in their hurry, they hadn't heard her) boys through her glasses, her mouth thin and white.

"Albus," she nodded in Dumbledore's general direction before looking again at Harry and Ron. "Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, I trust you have a _very_ good reason for coming up here without permission?"

The supposition that they did not, in fact, have a reason was all-too-evident in Professor McGonagall's tone. Harry and Ron almost expected Dumbledore to tell the Professor to calm down, but he did not. Instead, he looked at them just as curiously, expectant for an answer. Ron and Harry didn't have much time to dwell on the oddity; they had no idea how much time Hermione had, and, at least in their opinion, time was of the essence.

"Professors, Hermione's missing!" Ron blurted out.

Harry elbowed him in the stomach for sounding so horrified. "She's not really _missing_, so much as she's…gone," Harry elaborated, his voice much calmer than Ron's had been.

Immediately, Professor McGonagall's expression softened to that of worry, and she looked anxiously to Dumbledore. "What does this mean?" she asked. "Do you know anything about this, Albus?"

Dumbledore stayed silent, his gaze faraway though he was staring vaguely between Professor McGonagall and Ron. "Pro-Professor Dumbledore?" Ron breathed, terrified.

"Yes, Mr. Weasley?" Dumbledore finally said, his voice tired.

"What do you mean, 'yes, Mr. Weasley'?" Ron demanded, his ears red with fury.

Harry, fearing both Ron's and Dumbledore's safety, pushed his friend back gently. "Ron, getting angry isn't going to help," he placated, despite the rise of his own frustration. He turned to Dumbledore, beseeching. "Sir, she took something what she called a Defying Time potion, if that helps at all. It was bluish, I think, and emitted smoke when she disappeared, but we couldn't find anything else about it. She did say that she wanted to go nineteen years in the past, but we don't know why."

It did not help Ron's mood when Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall exchanged a very loaded look. After many tense moments and with Ron getting closer and closer to being inconsolable, Dumbledore removed his half-moon spectacles and looked at the boys with regret in his eyes. Professor McGonagall placed a comforting hand on Ron's shoulder.

"I'm afraid the question is not _what_ happened to her," Dumbledore said. "The question now is _why_ Miss Granger went where she did. Are you _certain_ you have no clues as to her reasons for departing?"

"No, Sir," Harry said, wishing very much that he could answer better. "I mean, nothing of consequence was really going on then, was it? Apart from my mother and father and everyone being there—" Harry stopped midsentence, looking wide-eyed at Ron, who mirrored his expression. Cautiously, he met Dumbledore's eyes again. "Wait…why would she want to go back to their time?"

Dumbledore heaved a sigh, and Professor McGonagall looked utterly perplexed and furiously thoughtful. "Why indeed…" Dumbledore said, fixing Ron and Harry with as much a commiserating expression as he could.

Unfortunately for them, Dumbledore wasn't sure how much help he could be on the matter. Even he could only do so much, particularly when it came to matters of manipulating time. Though he did not say it, he knew much of the solution would be up to Hermione to figure out.


	5. Skipping

**Time Defyer**

_Chapter V: Skipping_

* * *

**1977**

"Mudblood, mudblood, muddy muddy mudblood!" screeched the ghoul.

The short, squat, bell-hatted creature floating in midair was unmistakable. Hermione wasn't quite sure why she had half-expected him to look different, but nevertheless she was. This random musing flew out the window in a matter of milliseconds, however, when she registered what he had been chanting. She knew she was overreacting—there must be many Muggle-borns in Hogwarts—but she still couldn't stop the trickle of dread down her spine.

"P-Peeves, shut up!" she hissed fearfully. Whether he knew her or not, she still didn't want more attention drawn to her.

Like she had undesirably predicted, Peeves paid no mind to her pleas. In fact, he seemed to feed off them. "_Mudblood, mudblood, muddy muddy mudblood!_" The howling, if possible, was even louder.

The evil glint in his eyes seemed more sinister than she remembered. Was she just imagining it? _Oh dear, _Hermione thought frantically, slightly upset with herself that she was letting her paranoia get the better of her, _what if he really does know who I am? What if someone else knows?_

"Oh, it's Miss Rachelle Wilson skipping class! Ha-ha, ha-ha, Muddy Mudblood Wilson out of class!"

Hermione literally breathed a sigh of relief. Though it was a little disconcerting that someone in the school looked enough like her that Peeves was mistaken, she was grateful for this Rachelle existing nonetheless.

"Peeves, it's…it's not what you think," she said slowly, wincing at her nonexistent talent for lying. "I'm not really out of class. You see, I—"

"STUDENT IN THE HALLWAY!" he screeched in interruption to no one in particular.

Swearing under her breath—this was _not_ the way she intended this to go—she darted behind a nearby statue, thanking the stars for the convenience. She waited for the inevitable yelling to ensue, and, a moment later, her expectation was granted. Hearing the very familiar voice, she was overcome with the intent to go at least say hello to her favorite teacher, but stopped herself.

"PEEVES!" Professor McGonagall shouted over Peeves's continued taunts (thankfully for Hermione, he was in his mode now where he didn't care about a particular student, but rather just making as much noise as he could). "Stop wreaking havoc this instant! Students are trying to work!"

"MUDBLOOD, MUDDY MUDDY MUDBLOOD!"

Hermione peeked around her hiding place and saw the telltale flaring of McGonagall's nostrils and her mouth forming a thinner line; she knew a blowup was about to occur. "PEEVES, STOP THIS NONSENSE OR SO HELP ME, I _WILL_ CALL THE BLOODY BARON!" Her seething hiss was worse than downright yelling, and finally Peeves succumbed, flying away down the hallway. McGonagall straightened her hat, took a deep breath, and reentered her classroom, shutting the door with a snap.

Hermione, almost chuckling at how much _déjà vu_ (or would it be _verra_?) she was feeling. She interpreted the wriggling in her stomach as homesickness…well, timesickness as it were. Looking both ways down the corridor and seeing no one, she stepped out from behind the statue, strategizing which way would lead her to the part of the castle that she'd think most interesting from twenty years in the past.

Making her decision, she briskly started off to the left, but no sooner had she taken three steps when she literally ran into someone; someone whose chest felt like a brick wall. She braced herself for the pain that would come from falling on the flagstone, but it never came. Her eyes opened warily, and she came face to face with Sirius Black, who was donning his apparently customary smirk. She impatiently raised an eyebrow and, finally realizing what she meant, he set her upright.

"Hello, Sirius," Hermione said quietly, once she'd stepped back from him. She looked longingly down the hallway to where she knew her destination was. "Look, I don't mean to be rude, but I really—"

Effectually interrupting, he started circling her as he talked, "Now what would a Hogwarts newbie like you be wandering these dangerous halls in the middle of class?" he questioned, sounding overly interrogative.

Hermione sighed. "I could ask you the same question," she retorted, pursing her lips at his characterization of her being a 'newbie.'

He didn't falter, not even for a second. "Oh, you know, duty calls," he replied airily.

_Yeah, _Hermione thought sarcastically, _I'm sure playing a prank on an unsuspecting first year counts as your 'duty.' _"Duty for what, exactly?" she prodded, though with a strong suspicion as to the nature.

He stopped his pacing and crossed his arms, an impish smile on his face. "Guess."

"Sirius, I really don't have time for this. I'm sorry," she said, moving to edge past him.

As her luck would have it, he didn't allow her passage. She groaned, and made a mental note to berate Harry—he'd obviously had the romanticized view of Sirius as being an amazing, charming, fantastic man…he'd left out the infuriating bit that Hermione was now witnessing.

"Aw, come on," Sirius said beseechingly, gripping her upper arm firmly. It was actually starting to hurt a little. She fixed him with a glare. "Look, I just wanted to see if we could have a small chat, just the two of us. I don't think you got a very good impression of the four of us earlier today, and I figured I should try to fix that."

"Oh did you?" she asked, now pretending to be disinterested. Truth be told, her thirst for knowledge fired up again at the possibility to know more about the Marauders, however annoying they may be. Still, she looked shrewdly at him. "What happened to _your _class that I am sure you're supposed to be in? And how exactly did you know precisely where I was? Or would I be right in assuming I just happened to be a convenient person to talk to while you ditched?"

He sighed dramatically. "All right, I forfeit," he said. She graced him with a half-smile. "But seeing as how I'm sure you've guessed my original intentions for skipping, what do you say to my earlier proposition, hmm?"

_Okay, perhaps he was more observing than I'd thought_, Hermione mused. _Either that or he knows he's ridiculously easy to read_. "I still think you should go back to class," she insisted.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "You're so like Moony, spoilsport," he fumed. "Come _on_. My grades are superb, especially in Defense; one day won't hurt."

She felt her resolve slipping as she stared into his puppy dog-like face, though she did remind herself to slap her for this later. This, she was sure, fell under the category of 'Unnecessary Fraternizing.'

"Fine," she conceded reluctantly. "But keep in mind this is completely against my will, and if anyone asks that is what I shall tell them. Taken by force, to be specific."

"Deal," he said with a grin.

He offered her his arm, but she shook her head. "I don't think so," she said loftily. "You're much too sardonic for someone to ever think your chivalry was real."

He placed a hand to his chest and mocked pain. "Ouch. That really stung, you know," he said. She didn't believe it for a second.

Conceding again, however, Sirius gestured forward with his hand; that she did accept, ad she kept a steady pace, Sirius falling into step with her as they headed toward the Gryffindor common room. She nearly stopped in shock when she realized she hadn't the slightest clue what might come of the conversation. Not knowing was a rather new concept to her.

* * *

**1996**

Ron and Harry walked out of Dumbledore's office feeling much worse than they had when they entered. At least before they had been more flabbergasted and confused and curious; now, they were saddened, distraught, and angry. Normally meeting with Dumbledore was calming in one way or another, but this was simply distressing. Neither of the boys felt much like talking at the moment as they trudged up to the common room. Even the Fat Lady seemed to notice their depression.

Mumbling the password, they collapsed into the armchairs by the fireplace and stared into the orangey-red flames, as if trying to find answers there. For all the help they'd gotten so far, they cynically thought the fire would have more solutions. They vaguely heard the occasional group of Gryffindors going through the portrait hole, but, wisely, no one disrupted their mutual state of despair.

When Ron spoke at last, his voice was shakier than usual, and he cleared his throat a few times before continuing. "H-Harry?" he asked slowly.

"Yeah?" Harry replied into the grate. He didn't really feel he could look anyone in the face at the moment, let alone Ron.

"I miss her," Ron answered truthfully. Admitting his feelings, let alone those concerning Hermione, was a rather large step for him. Enough for Harry to actually meet his eyes.

"Me too, mate. Me too."

"No," Ron continued, his voice in the dazed-sounding way it does when one comes upon a revelation of sorts. "I mean I _really_ miss her. You…well, you know how I felt. How I feel."

Harry resisted the urge to smack him on the head and let him know that _everyone_ knew how he felt. "I'm well aware of that, Ron," he settled. And though he didn't quite trust the words he said next, he thought they mollified his redheaded friend a little. "She will be okay, Ron, that much I've got to believe in. She's _Hermione_ for goodness's sake. As for what you said…you know what?"

"What?" Ron asked sullenly.

"I'm rather sure she feels the same way," he said with as much a smile as he could manage. He was afraid it was more of a grimace, but there wasn't much more he could do.

A corner of Ron's mouth turned up. "Really?"

"For sure," Harry replied. "I mean, you saw how she reacted when you went out with Lavender, didn't you? I've never seen her so spiteful to a person. Save for the Slytherins, but they hardly count. I promise, Ron."

Ron's mood seemed to have lifted a bit, though Harry's was just as upset as before. "Regardless, I can still be worried about her, can't I?" he asked rhetorically. "You heard what Dumbledore said…"

"Yes, I was there," Harry said.

"Well, thanks anyway for trying to cheer me up," Ron said gruffly. "And if you're up for it, I'm feeling like a trip to the Library could turn up some new results…?"

Harry felt quite the opposite and did not think they would find anything else, but, whether strictly out of unintentional masochism, Harry nodded and stood up. "Sure," he agreed with a sigh. "Let's go."

And so, with the sole thought that he'd yell at Hermione when she got back fueling him (and Ron with a very different sort of thought providing the inclination), they jogged the considerable distance to the place where Hermione often sought refuge. Hopefully, Harry wished, Ron would soon realize there wasn't anything to be found. As bad as he felt about thinking it, he almost preferred the sad but realistic Ron than the Ron who was love-struck and therefore impractical. Harry did definitely want to get Hermione back, but he didn't exactly think the Library would be where they got answers.

* * *

_You may have noticed I toned down the romance in this version of the chapter. I was reading my previous one and cringing at how fangirlish I'd turned Hermione into, and I profusely apologize for the sickening nature of it. Hopefully this was better. Don't get me wrong, there will be eventual romance in the story, but I felt Hermione was being way over the top. And now I head off to edit further chapters…_

Another note: in case you were wondering what "_verra_" means, it's a little joke in reference to "_déjà vu_". You see, the latter literally means "already seen," and "_verra_" literally means "will see." It's the future tense of _voir_. Just FYI.


	6. Back to the Library

**Time Defyer**

_Chapter VI: Back to the Library_

* * *

**1977**

A few smuggled butterbeers later, Hermione was feeling much more relaxed around Sirius. She had to admit he had a certain charm to him once you got past the insurmountable arrogance. Their conversation hadn't really had much substance, but she found herself with stolen smiles and a laugh or two at his jokes that she thought really oughtn't be funny. She had been lucky so far, though: whether because he got the feeling she wasn't going to be open about it or he was just being courteous, he hadn't asked her any questions that would get her into serious trouble.

"Favorite vacation," Hermione asked him. They'd moved on now to asking trivial, and yet usually interesting, queries, from favorite food to more obscure ones like favorite Zonko's product (Hermione didn't have a very complicated answer for that one).

Sirius pondered for a moment, then grinned. "My family—may they all fester in Hell— once took a trip over to some Dark magic convention far in the mountains, dragging me, 'Dromeda, Narcissa, Bellatrix, and Regulus with them. Narcissa, Bellatrix, and my rotten brother were, of course, fascinated and eavesdropped upon the whole thing, but 'Dromeda and I were thoroughly uninterested and stayed as far away as we dared."

"Sounds fun."

"It was, actually," Sirius counteracted, obviously lost in the memory. "We would make up all sorts of games; the fact that all we had were our imaginations made it all the more exhilarating. We were quite young at that point, but we were closer than ever. None of my family ever found out about our escapades, and every time 'Dromeda and I happened to get together, we would have the time of our lives continuing the games. Arguably the best times of my horrendous childhood."

He didn't elaborate on said childhood, but Hermione knew it all anyway, what with having made friends with Sirius's older counterpart. She'd known Andromeda and Sirius had been close cousins, but hearing him talk so freely about their friendship made her heart ache. Not only for him, but because she missed Harry and Ron so desperately. She wondered then if, perhaps, drinking the potion was a bad idea.

"Well, I'm glad you got some fun out of your younger life, even if it was in the midst of Dark events," she said honestly. She only wished those memories had been enough to save him.

Sirius half-smiled at her and cleared his throat. "Okay, your turn," he said, pondering his question. Then his eyes lit up, and Hermione couldn't help but feel wary. "Most empowering moment."

Hermione actually had to think about that one; it wasn't a simple question, though he may have meant it that way. She could think of many examples during the last few months and painful experiences with Harry and Ron, but she didn't want to indulge that yet to Sirius. He may have been trustworthy, but she hardly knew this version of him, and she didn't exactly want James or Lupin (let alone Pettigrew) to find out. Then she recalled a very humorous moment years ago, and couldn't resist telling him.

"There was one, about three or four years ago," she said, the memory fresh. "There was a very annoying, very conceited, very cruel boy named, um, Daniel Malden that lived in Sly—er, my neighborhood—and there was an instant where a good friend of mine experienced a tragedy. His pet had to get put down, and he was in pieces over it. Horridly enough, Daniel made fun of my friend and of his pet, to the point where it should have been lawfully punishable. Now I'm normally a nonviolent person, but that comment got to be too much and I slapped him _hard_ across his pale, pointed face, to everyone's surprise, though to my satisfaction. Better yet, his face was red for a week. It was one of the most amazing points of my life."

Sirius now actually grinned, and Hermione, for a second, wished Sirius had actually been there to witness her slapping of Malfoy. Or, as she'd changed his name on the fly, Daniel Malden. She had to admit it wasn't the best name, but it'd have to do. After all, she couldn't exactly tell Sirius Malfoy's actual name. That would be quite an awkward situation to get into.

"Sounds fantastic," Sirius said, a look almost akin to awe in his face. "I say you should've punched or cursed him, but sounds like a slap did the job just fine."

"Well enough," Hermione agreed, though now that Sirius had made another suggestion, she felt angry for not thinking of it herself at the time.

Silence fell between them, the mirth vanishing from both faces. Hermione turned to stare in the fire blazing merrily in the grate, letting thoughts of S.P.E.W. filter through her mind for a moment. She could tell Sirius was staring at her studiously, but she ignored him. She was afraid that if she looked at him, there would at least be some signs of pity in his face, which was one of the last things she wanted. What she _wanted_ was both a way to see Harry and Ron again, and find out the thing she came here for in the first place.

What she hadn't told the boys was that it wasn't really for _her_ that she voyaged here…it was more for Harry. She knew better, of course, than to meddle with time, but she kept wondering if things perhaps would be happier and more pleasant if certain people had not perished in Harry's life. Particularly the man that was sitting currently beside her. She wondered how exactly it could be bad if Sirius were to miraculously _not_ die.

"What did the fire ever do to you?" Sirius said, breaking through her depressing musings.

She blinked, turning to him. She sighed internally—even though Sirius did have sarcasm on his face, there was pity there as well. "Excuse me?"

"I'm not sure it's so deserving of your glare," he answered, looking curiously at her.

"I was just thinking," she answered truthfully. He raised an eyebrow expectantly, and she found herself explaining more. "I have two fantastic friends back home. I miss them more than I thought I would, I guess. They got annoying as hell sometimes, but…I just…I miss them."

"You don't have to explain great friendship to me, Granger," he said, a note of finality in his voice. Hermione didn't have the heart to tell him Peter shouldn't be included in that. _That_ fact may be too much to change, much as she wished it weren't. "Prongs may get love-struck, Moony may get too bookish for his own good, and Wormtail—that's Peter—may become too much of a wimp, but they've always come through when it's really needed."

"That much I can relate to," Hermione replied, staring at Sirius in a new light.

She'd never imagined he could be so…deep. The Sirius she knew was more angsty and bitter. Yes, he was extremely talented, wickedly humorous, and possessed the ability to be a great friend, but she hadn't detected the side of him that had apparently manifested itself in his younger self. She wasn't so sure she didn't like this Sirius better. After spending a few hours with him, she thought she could see that maybe all the stories about him were really true.

Suddenly, Sirius got a foreign look in his eye that Hermione couldn't identify. She did, however, feel her heart rate increase and blood rush to her head, her subconscious reacting to whatever he was doing. Before she knew it, he was leaning forward, getting closer by the second. She felt her eyes start to close of their own accord, her breath coming in short gasps…

* * *

**1996**

Harry knew it was well past the point where he could concentrate on any more text, his eyes glazing over the words, all the sentences muddling together. He wasn't even sure what book he was looking at or what it was about. His eyes burning with fatigue and his glasses drooping down to the end of his nose, he glanced up at Ron across the table, fully expecting him to either be asleep or in the same state as Harry himself. It came as a great surprise, then, that Ron was industriously flipping through a large tome that Harry guessed hadn't been read in a hundred years. His nose was about five inches from the page, and his blue eyes were skimming the words with blurring speed.

He had half a mind to let Ron continue poring over more countless books, but knew that Ron wouldn't find much. They hadn't found anything _remotely_ referencing the potion Hermione had used, and came to think that perhaps it was a concoction of her own, or at least a blending of multiple potions. Dumbledore and McGonagall had certainly seemed to know what they'd been talking about, but then again the two Professors also appeared to know more than met the eye. They may very well have guessed the sort of magic she had used.

"Ron," Harry said quietly, glancing nervously out the windows at the pitch-black sky. He realized for the first time in a couple hours that the library was deadly silent. Ron didn't answer. _"Ron!"_

This time Ron blinked out of his stupor and glanced up at Harry, eyes rimmed in tired red, and almost surprised that Harry was still there. "Unh?" he mumbled.

"Ron, we really should get going," Harry said, feeling a bit of remorse that he had to be the one to suggest it.

Ron was about to answer, and then Harry felt a feeling of dread run down his spine when someone else spoke. "Yes, I do believe that's the best idea," it said icily.

He turned to his left, only to see the beak-nosed, uptight Madam Pince glaring at him and Ron through sharp eyes. He hadn't even heard her approach. "We're getting there," Harry answered meekly. He cast a nudging look to Ron.

"Professor Dumbledore has informed me of Ms. Granger's disappearance, which is why I have granted you the permission to be in here for two hours after closing, but it is approaching eleven o'clock, and it is high time you get out," Madam Pince said, clearly showing her distaste for Dumbledore's order.

Harry was slightly relieved that it was on Dumbledore's permission that they were here, and rather astonished that Madam Pince had allowed it, but knew her patience was not one to be toyed with. He gathered up the books nervously, gently edging the one Ron had been looking at away from his clammy fingers, as carefully as he could under Madam Pince's glare.

"We'll just, er, we'll just be putting these back now," Harry replied hastily, getting up from the table, and, though he was a good six inches taller than the librarian, felt unnaturally tiny.

"I do believe that is the smartest idea, Mr. Potter," Madam Pince sneered.

Harry walked around to Ron's side of the desk and pulled him up by his collar. "Come on, Ron," he said regretfully. Take half of these. I can't carry them all by myself."

Ron looked positively depressed at the fact that they were being forced to leave, but there was no way he could think of to get out of it. If Madam Pince was anything, she was insistent. As it happened, all the books they'd grabbed went in generally the same section, which meant the librarian was able to follow them as closely as a hawk, more than once slapping Harry's hand when he started to put a book in the wrong place. He was getting quite frustrated with it now, but dared not get cross with her. Snape he probably would have, but Madam Pince was an entirely different matter.

It, in reality, only took them about ten minutes to replace all the books, but felt much longer under Madam Pince's gaze, and Harry could tell even Ron was feeling it through his disappointment. "Thanks, Madam Pince, we appreciate it," Ron mumbled to her as the two boys headed out of her sanctum.

"Note that this privilege will not be granted to you again," Madam Pince said in way of answer. Harry got the distinct feeling she meant it. To the death.

"Understood," Harry replied, pushing open the great, heavy doors of the library and stepping into the eerily dark hall, Madam Pince's eyes yellowy as Filch's cat. Quite a scary sight, to be sure.

Hoping they wouldn't meet any errant teachers along the way, Harry and Ron trekked up the few floors to their common room, Harry truly hoping Ron wouldn't want to venture back to the library. Harry had had enough of the place for the time being. It didn't help that every moment he'd allowed his mind to stray he was reminded of Hermione. _Where _are_ you?_ He thought desperately, missing his friend more than she knew.


	7. And It Gets Complicated

**Time Defyer**

_Chapter VII: And It Gets Complicated…_

* * *

**1976**

Hermione, for a fraction of a second, was sure her lips were going to connect with Sirius's. It was then that her mind's wires actually connected and she realized exactly what she'd been about to do. Her eyes snapping open, she gasped and retracted her head from Sirius. It took him a second to figure out that they weren't, in fact, kissing, and he looked at her strangely. And yet with a hint of…disappointment? Hermione's mind reeled at the thought.

"Something wrong?" Sirius whispered. Hermione wasn't sure why exactly he was doing so, but she got the strange sense that it was the only appropriate thing to do.

"No, I just—I'm sorry, Sirius, really." And she was. She had been fully ready to lock lips with him, but that was just her inner Lavender wanting to do so. She hadn't even _considered_ that she, Hermione Granger, would go that route. Would want to kiss someone whom she'd not only barely met, but whose counterpart was a good twenty or so years older than she. Not to mention he was Harry's godfather and currently deceased. The thought that she had nearly been a budding necrophiliac made her feel sick.

"But?" he asked, obviously wanting to know a precise reason—which Hermione lacked at the moment. "I have to say this whole rejection thing is pretty new to me."

Hermione wrinkled her nose at that statement. _Of course it's new, Sirius, _she mused scathingly, _you're the self-dubbed player in all of Hogwarts! _She almost indulged herself with a smile, knowing that she must have been the first female that Sirius had set his sights on who had said no to him. She wished she could tell that to Harry and Ron, but unfortunately she knew she wouldn't be able to get past "Sirius was about to kiss me" without them jumping all over her in spluttering expletives.

"Yeah, well for that, I feel sorry for you," she answered slowly. Sirius's comment wasn't exactly one that was easy to respond to. "But I just can't do this right now, Sirius. I just…can't."

"But _why_?" he wheedled seriously. He looked so pitiful that she almost felt regretful that she hadn't just humored him.

"Because I'm not…attracted to you." It was mostly true, anyway. She did concede that he was appealing in his own way, and she was sure that, had he not been someone she knew well, she would have fallen for him. However, that was far from the case, and she wasn't keen to throw all her knowledge out the window, especially for some schoolgirl crush. _Especially_ considering she knew at some point she would have to be returning to a future where, unfortunately, Sirius was far from existing. A fact she hated to remember but had to bring to her forefront in case of a situation she was now in.

He started to no doubt object to what she said—his eyes were certainly put-off—when the portrait hole opened loudly, followed by a curse by the Fat Lady. Hermione's eyes snapped over, ecstatic for the interruption, but she could still feel Sirius's perturbed eyes on her. She studiously ignored it and watched as three very familiar faces stepped inside, chattering away animatedly. Currently, the hazel-eyed one was speaking.

"…freaking _amazing_," he said, obviously finishing a part of a humorous sentence, as both Lupin and Peter started guffawing. They finally noticed the two students in the room, and the laughter started to fade. "We were wondering where you'd gotten off to, Padfoot! What are you doing?"

"Well, I _was_…er…talking…to Granger here, when you three cut in on it," he said. Hermione did not fail to notice his hesitation on the word "talking." She severely hoped the boys' perverted minds did not catch it. Luckily for her, they either didn't or were very good at hiding it.

Their gazes switched to Hermione, as if just noticing she was there. "So how did you come across our skipping friend?" Lupin asked. Hermione was quite pleased some of the coldness he'd had towards her had started to recede.

She felt four pairs of eyes on her, and explained as truthfully as she could. "I was exploring the castle," she said nonchalantly. "I've been excused from classes, at least for today, and thought it'd be a good opportunity to look around at the place that will be my home for another year or so. Then Sirius so rudely came across my path, and invited me up here, and there you are."

She swore she saw something devious flicker in Lupin's face, but she daren't dwell upon it. She didn't really want to know what would happen if she did. "So, er, what were you guys all laughing at?" she asked, as interested as possible.

Thankfully, she knew she'd hit the goldmine as James's expression lit up and he began retelling the story. It was obvious it had been discussed many times, as Lupin looked slightly exasperated and took a seat on the floor by Sirius, but Peter, ever the golden retriever-like conformist, looked enraptured by each letter James said.

"Okay, so we're in Potions, right?" James began, Hermione having to listen carefully in order to catch the words considering how fast James was talking. "It was near the end of the class, when we had to bring up our projects, and Snivellus—that's Snape, this weaselly ingrate, in case you didn't know, Granger—must've said something really snide to Lily, because her face got all twisted-like and then there was this flash of anger (though keep in mind she still looked beautiful through the whole thing, of course) and without further ado, Snape hit the stone with a thud that was more than satisfying. It was pretty epic."

"Wait, so _Lily Evans_ was the one who tripped Snape?" Hermione asked, agape. She tried to hold back just how shocked she was, but she thought some of it leaked through.

Fortunately, James was obviously too enamored and impressed to catch it. Hermione avoided Lupin's eyes. "Yeah, and it was amazing," James said dreamily. "Arguably the best time of my entire Hogwarts career. Potions has never really been all that fun, particularly when he have Double with the Slytherins, but today was rather all right. Don't you agree, Moony?"

"Yeah, sure," Lupin said with a chuckle. "Though I may have to choose other times. I'm not as obsessed with Lily as you are."

"I'm not obsessed!" James objected hotly. Hermione, Lupin, Peter, and Sirius all raised an eyebrow, and James flushed slightly.

"Biggest lie I've ever heard in my entire life," Sirius said, finally entering the conversation. Hermione guessed he still felt a little hurt, but he obviously couldn't resist joining in. "You're more obsessed with Evans than my family is with the Dark Arts."

An awkward silence followed, and Sirius finally realized how his statement must've sounded. Hermione got the sense that James would oppose the comment rather loudly, but he obviously thought it wouldn't be the most prudent thing to do. Hermione knew that Sirius was still insanely bitter about his family in years to come, and so she could hardly imagine how horrible he felt about it in this time.

Lupin cleared his throat, and was met with grateful glances. "I should probably get going," he said. "I've got to finish that essay for Arithmancy."

Sirius frowned, looking at him confusedly. "Didn't you say that essay was due like next Wednesday?" he asked, perplexed. "That's in four days, Moony."

Hermione had a definite feeling of déjà vu, particularly when Lupin answered with, "Exactly. But I know how hard-pressed you are to understand something like that."

Hermione looked down to the floor, struck with how much she missed being able to say that. "Well, _I _understand, Lupin," she said, looking up at him.

There must have been something in her face, because Lupin gave her a small smile. "Thanks," he replied simply. And with that, he turned and retreated up into the boys' dormitory, leaving an amusing wake.

Peter's unsure switching of weight caught everyone's attention, and he looked apologetically at James. "Could you help me with the Defense homework? It's dreadfully difficult," whined Peter. Hermione cringed.

James sighed in exasperation. "Wormtail, not only have we been over the homework many times, but you do need to learn it yourself, you know," said James crossly. Hermione got the distinct impression this was a common event.

"Please, Prongs? I won't ask you again, promise," Peter beseeched. Hermione could already see the resolve diminish in James's eyes and she had the urge to shake him by the shoulders and tell him he was seconds away from helping the traitor.

"Yes you will, Peter," James said, but grabbed Peter by the arm and brought him over to one of the desks, Peter smiling in glee.

Another uncomfortable quiet fell between Sirius and Hermione, Hermione hardly able to look into Sirius's face. She doubted she'd like what she saw there. After a few minutes of sitting there not talking, Hermione gave up and stood from her chair, fully ready to go to her Dumbledore-instigated room, in order to simply ponder the mind-blowing events of what happened that day. The moment she turned around, though, she felt a warm hand on her arm, pulling her around gently; it was Sirius. Before she knew what he was doing, he pressed his lips to hers for a couple long moments, Hermione too shocked to do anything. Finally, he pulled away, and she blinked at him in a daze, her mind rather fuzzy.

"I knew I'd be able to do that," Sirius said, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "Some way or another."

Hermione looked at him sadly, and then walked away, surprised she could walk straight. She muttered the spell to enter her room, and after she shut the door, she collapsed on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, her thoughts running rampant.

* * *

**1997**

Hours after they left the library, both Harry and Ron were wide awake, both listening vaguely to Neville's snores and Dean's mumblings of how gypped Manchester United was in their last competition. Harry heard Ron's deep sigh, and knew his friend was lucid just like he was. He wished Ron weren't, just so he could be alone with his thoughts, but he couldn't exactly tell Ron to stop without sounding like a hypocrite.

"Harry, you awake?" Ron whispered through the darkness. His voice was laced with hope.

Harry considered not answering, but knew he shouldn't. "Yeah, Ron, I'm awake," he replied finally, tension filling their unspoken words.

"Do you really think we'll find her?" Ron asked, voice rather choked.

"I—I have faith in Dumbledore," Harry said, wishing he could say something more concrete. "He's not let us down before, and I don't think he will this time. We by ourselves may not be able to find her, but with his help, I am sure we will be able to."

_I hope_ were the two words left silent from Harry's sentence, and he was sure Ron knew it. "What do you think will happen if we _don't _find her?"

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, slightly perplexed by Ron's query.

"I mean—" He paused, as if thinking through his reasoning again. "I mean what will have changed if we don't find her? What has she changed by being back there?"

Harry frowned, wanting very badly to have an answer. "I don't know," he said, hating the words. "I really don't know. I think the only way we will ever know is if she comes back and tells us herself."

"I was afraid of that," said Ron dismally. "I was really hoping you wouldn't say that."

It was clear by Ron's tone that that was what he wanted more than anything, apart from having Hermione back in their time. Still, though he knew his words were for naught for the most part, Harry felt a slight responsibility to perhaps mollify Ron a tiny bit. Every little part would help.

"We can keep looking if you want, Ron," said Harry with false brightness. "But I have to be frank with you: I think we'll just have to wait it out, as undesirable as that prospect is."

Ron sighed in answer, and Harry, with a substantial drop in his mood, turned his back to his friend and pulled the covers over himself further, finding solace in the ensuing dreams containing the three of them, together again and happy; a circumstance he desperately wanted to resurface.

* * *

_Though this chapter is revised, I'm not sure how I feel about it, especially the part with Harry and Ron; I don't know what's wrong with it, but it feels like something's off. If you have any edits you wish me to make, don't hesitate to review and/or PM me. Thanks!_


	8. Don't Fall For Moony

**I'm back again, my fellow fic-obsessed homies! Here's another chapter, as promised by Monday. This will contain sirius/hermione stuff in it, but some other couplings as well. I know I keep saying this, but it's ****true—thank you all for nothing but positive reviews! Smooch smooch smooch!**

**p.s. to daydreamrose thanks for the suggestion, and I will definitely implicate it!**

After James and Remus had left, Sirius and Hermione moved again into furiously and passionately making out (with some 'necessary' Frenching along the way), neither one of them in the least embarrassed. Well, maybe a little. Hermione's previous worries of her extreme infatuations with Sirius were gone now, though occasionally when they would come up for air, the smallest nag at the back of her brain would alert her, but not very much so.

Hermione vaguely noticed it was starting to turn an impossibly vivid pink and purple outside, and for some reason got worried. She slowly pulled away from Sirius's still extraordinarily enticing lips, and looked at him, though with her arms still coiled around his neck. He looked at her questioningly. Hermione found her voice after a while and looked back at him, smiling.

"Sirius! It's already sunset!" she exclaimed.

He kissed her on her neck again, with her laughing. "So?"

She pushed him away a little further, playfully. "So…we should start doing something constructive."

"You mean this isn't?" he replied, planting a fervent kiss on her lips.

"Sirius, come on." She said, now getting more serious.

He looked at her, feigning hurt. Hermione wasn't sure whether he was actually faking it, or if part of it was real. "Yeah." He said sulkily. "I suppose so."

She got up and held his hand. "I'm going to go to the Library, okay? I have to go check out something."

Sirius gazed at her, intensity and caution both raging in his eyes. "Just don't fall for Moony down there, okay?"

She kissed him passionately again. "I promise, Sirius."

----------------------

"Harry! HARRY!" Ron yelled across the library.

"Yeah?" Harry answered. Ron could barely hear him.

"HAVING ANY LUCK!" he screamed again.

"NO!" Harry responded.

Ron walked over to where Harry was. "HOW ABOUT YOU?" Harry yelled again.

"AHH! Damn, Harry! I'm right here!" Ron said angrily.

"Sorry." Harry whispered.

"I didn't find anything. You'd think with Hogwarts being this big they would have put in more doors to this thing." Ron said.

"So true." Harry agreed.

Ron suddenly had a look on his face like he came up with a brilliant idea. "What is it, Ron?" Harry asked.

"Do you think there's a spell in here that'll create a door so we can get out of this damned place?" Ron suggested eagerly.

Harry caught on quickly. "Well, Hermione's found something for just about every subject in here, so I suppose we have to get _something _out of here!"

"Let's get on it then!" Ron replied, still beaming; he was still surprised at his own genius.

------------------

Hermione was still smiling like a stupid idiot as she walked down the stairs immediately after the portrait hole. A few of the girl paintings had asked her what was so funny or why she was grinning so much in their unusually high-pitched voices. She either hadn't answered, or said something vague like, 'Oh, nothing ladies.'. Hermione was still thinking about Sirius (obviously), and the attractions they had shared. She hardly felt superficial anymore, but wondered if Sirius had still been alive, if he would feel that way about her. And would her being here change the future? She suddenly had a thought.

"_Will Sirius be alive now!" _she thought, now getting excited. Then she rationalized. _"Oh, get a grip, Hermione. Just by you going into the past and having a momentary fling with a 17-year-old Sirius will not bring him back from the dead. He's dead!" _she deflated as she realized that her conscience was right.

She didn't even notice where her feet were taking her, but she assumed that even her sub-conscious mind could lead her to the Library even if her conscious mind wasn't quite all there. However, she was surprised when she came out of her little argument with herself. She looked around, confused. Unless in this time period the Library had changed places, she wasn't anywhere near there! She frantically searched for signs, but couldn't find any. She immediately got a feeling of dread. Then she found out where she was.

**Sorry guys for the short chapter, but I finished like a page before school starts, and I have to leave. I'll write more next one, I promise! It should be out later this week, m'kay? And thanks for the great reviews! Remember, you can praise, flame, or suggest. I will take them into account. Till then!**


	9. This Is Getting Ridiculous

screwtheperfectlife: _don't worry, I'll tell you either in this chapter or the next._

daydreamrose: _I was thinking about putting her near the Slytherin common room, but I have changed it. Good idea though for forecasting it._

SH: _Haha. I'll tell you, just hang on and keep reading and reviewing, okay?_

**First of all, let me say I am SOOOOOOO SOOOORRRRRRYYYYYY for not updating when I said I would! I feel terrible! I just got like a horrible case of writer's block at the worst possible time. I WILL get another chapter out by Thanksgiving or the day after…I promise! Sorry! **

**For anyone out there wondering, you will know exactly where Hermione is soon. Like in this chapter or Chapter 10. **

**p.s. if anyone has any suggestions for future chapters, let me know and I'll try to put them in! stay tuned for upcoming episodes!**

**---------------**

Hermione looked around as she felt her heart beat a little faster. She knew she shouldn't get this worked up over it, for her situation wasn't actually that bad or very dire. Still, she couldn't get the sadness out of her mind. For some odd reason, her eyes started welling up with tears until her vision was blurry. One single drop fell from her cheek to the blood-red floor. She slammed the door shut, sitting down, leaning her head against the wall and quietly sobbing.

She didn't realize how long exactly she had been there until she heard a voice. She looked outside and saw it was getting a gray-ish color, dull and boring. "Hermione? HERMIONE!" the voice called. She recognized it as Moony's—well, Lupin's that is. She smiled even as her tears were still falling at the fact that she had gotten friendly enough with them to call them by their nicknames.

She stood up, still quivering slightly, but she brushed away the ceasing droplets. "Y—Yeah, I'm here!"

She walked up to meet him, seeing a worried face. "Hermione? Where were you?" he asked in a mixed tone of concern and annoyance. "What happened?" he softened as he saw her tear-streaked cheeks.

She sub-consciously rubbed them away. "Nothing. It's nothing. I was just reminded of something. Something that I miss terribly. So—uh—I heard you were in the Library. Why'd you come looking for me?"

"Well," he started, taking a deep breath, "Padfoot—erm…Sirius—_actually decided _to go to class for once, and he said you hadn't been back for a while but that you were supposed to be at the Library but I said I hadn't seen you, and I hadn't, so I told him I would go look for you. So here I am." He said, all in one breath and very fast.

Hermione had to think a little at his words to slow them down, but then smiled at Sirius's worrying about her. Then she smiled wider at the fact that he would rather go and learn 'useless information' as he termed it than look for her.

"Well, thank you Moony—er—Remus." She corrected.

He smiled, one which Hermione hadn't seen in the longest while. Come to think of it, the last time he had actually showed signs of happiness was when he was with Tonks, although even then it was strained, and then back in 3rd year when he told her she was the 'smartest witch of her age'. She grinned, reminiscing.

"You can call me Moony. I don't really mind. I mean, we're technically friends now anyway, right? Friends of Padfoot's are friends of mine." He recited.

"Why…I'm flattered!" she said, exaggerating a little bit.

He bowed extravagantly, also overstating. "You're most welcome, Miss." He said while kissing the top of her hand lightly.

Hermione giggled at their mock play. But then she remembered all those times when she, Harry, Ron, and sometimes Ginny did that. Her face contorted slightly in pain, as a few tears threatened to fall on her just-devoid-of-tear-streaked skin.

Lupin furrowed his brow again, dropping her hand, and donning the face of alarm at her sudden mood swing. Tentatively, he said, "H—Hermione? Are you all right?"

She half-smiled, while feeling the burning at the back of her eyes, but holding it back. Barely voicing her sadness, she replied, "Mmhmm. I'm okay. Just thinking again."

He looked at her funny, like he didn't really believe her. She was _desperate _to tell them absolutely everything, especially Sirius, but she couldn't, much as she trusted them. She had to figure this out for herself. Then she remembered that she had burdened this all on herself, and suddenly felt horrified and furious at herself.

"_Well, that's just fantastic, Hermione! Way to go! This is what you wanted for so long—to go back in time! You never even told Harry or Ron what you were doing! They're probably worried sick! You are such a retarded, stupid, idiot witch! Malfoy was right for once!" _she thought, the last statement being a surprise, but oddly true.

"Remus, I have to go. I'll see you later." She said to him, starting to run off, then looked back at his confused face. "Oh. Thanks for finding me by the way!"

**You guys, i am so sorry for having this like super short, but i thought i owed you _something_! i feel bad, and i will post another chapter hopefully by at most Saturday or Sunday. Again, i am TRULY sorry! **

**xoxo,**

**luvseanfaris**


	10. I Have A Note For Sirius Black, Sir

**Okay, don't shoot me, everybody! I am grieving right now at how long I made my faithful readers wait for the next chapter:( I know it isn't really an excuse, but I really had like the worst writer's block EVER, and I had mountains of homework to finish.**

**But here's the next chapter! Hehe. And I wont promise when I think the next one's going to be up, because, frankly, I have no fathomable idea. Sorry!**

_Flashback_

_He looked at her funny, like he didn't really believe her. She was desperate to tell them absolutely everything, especially Sirius, but she couldn't, much as she trusted them. She had to figure this out for herself. Then she remembered that she had burdened this all on herself, and suddenly felt horrified and furious at herself._

"Well, that's just fantastic, Hermione! Way to go! This is what you wanted for so long—to go back in time! You never even told Harry or Ron what you were doing! They're probably worried sick! You are such a retarded, stupid, idiot witch! Malfoy was right for once!"_ she thought, the last statement being a surprise, but oddly true._

"_Remus, I have to go. I'll see you later." She said to him, starting to run off, then looked back at his confused face. "Oh. Thanks for finding me by the way!"_

_**Okay…chapter 10…**_

Hermione ran all the way through the school, finally stopping at the class Sirius was currently in—Potions. Hermione didn't want to interrupt, but she hastily pushed the thought out of her mind, as she knew she _needed _to do this. She quickly muttered the incantation, _"Preverbio"_, which visualizing a female student with a prefect's badge on her charcoal robes. It felt almost the same as the effects of the Polyjuice Potion—like ice water being poured down your front, then steaming hot as it gets down to your toes. After which your skin feels like there is heat lightning in the air. The only feature that remained of Hermione was her distinguishable, brightening eyes.

She uttered the same spell, though adding _"Minutia" _to it, and with a bright pop, an excuse note appeared in her hand. She took a deep breath, looked through the door one more time to check if it was the right classroom, and opened the door. She flushed slightly as she felt all eyes appear on her. The teacher, hand poised as if ready to write something on the board, gave her a look that clearly said, "You _dare _interrupt my class!"

"I—I have a note for Sirius Black, Sir. It says he is needed urgently." She squeaked, her voice smaller and higher than she intended.

Another glare and a stifling pause. "Yes…well…Black, up you go. And!" he added, as Sirius got up. "Do NOT "forget" to turn in that essay I assigned…or I will personally fail you for this term. Good day."

The teacher turned back to writing, though Hermione noted that, if he had possessed a magical eye (like Moody's), he would have stared deathly at her. She quickly opened and closed the door, waiting for Sirius to exit. While he was temporarily looking away, she silently said the charm, _"Exempliar"_, face returning to normal, and the note disappearing. When Sirius turned to look at her, he shrieked in surprise (_"Thank God the doors here are soundproof!" _thought Hermione), and jumped back a few steps.

Hermione internally giggled at this. She loved having the upper hand. "Hey Sirius." She greeted innocently and calmly.

"I—Uh—Well—You—Hi." He stuttered. He hastily regained his composure at the look of amusement he was receiving, and cleared his throat. "What in the hell do you think you are doing!"

Hermione looked up at him, giving him the best doe eyes she could muster up, and putting on a guiltless face. "Well, silly," she said, cursing herself for sounding exactly like Dolores Umbridge, "I needed to get you out of class somehow, right?"

He looked at her incredulously. "Sure, but turning into someone else without a Polyjuice Potion? That's really advanced magic. Not to mention you performed a silent spell!"

She looked somewhat abashed, but also blushed the faintest bit, replying, "Well, thank you, Sirius."

Sirius cut straight to the point. "Great. Why did you need to take me out of that oh so important lesson?" he added with the last four words positively saturated with sarcasm.

"I have to tell you something." She said, suddenly turning serious, him looking confused and worried at the same time. "I know you as 35-year-old Sirius Black, you are the godfather of my best friend, Harry Potter, and I am from the future."

She braced herself for the blow that was sure to come. It didn't. "I thought there was something weird about you." He admitted sheepishly, but with a cocky, all-knowing grin.

Hermione stared at him, astounded. She had expected him to take this harder. "Wha—What do you mean?" she stammered.

"Well, for one, we—that is to say me, Moony, Prongs, and Wormtail (Hermione shuddered invisibly at the name)—have never seen you before in our entire seven years of Hogwarts, yet you claim you are in our same grade. Two, you have not shown up on the Marauder's Map, which shows _everyone_. Lastly, you knew all of our names before we even told you." He explained.

Hermione looked chagrined, embarrassed, and amazed all at the same time. "And you didn't tell me this _because…_" she accused, more intensely than she intended.

"Because I wanted to see when you were going to inform us about your little wrongdoings." He replied simply. It sounded like he had had this all planned out in his head.

Hermione was irked something fierce. Why couldn't he have told her? He wanted to 'see when she was going to inform them'? What kind of excuse was that? She felt her fists close slightly, the lines of her mouth highly reminiscent of Professor McGonagall's. This was exactly the kind of thing everyone had told her about younger Sirius. Always wanted control, able to manipulate anyone. Highly disappointed in herself, Hermione should have known better than to have just jumped into the past without thinking anything through. She was smarter than this. She just had to do some quick, logical thinking.

"Well, fine." She said in resentment. "But I have oh so many things on you, my dear Sirius. Things that would make your hair curl." Hermione shot back, repeating Rita Skeeter's venomous comments. She raised her eyebrow in an intimidating look.

Sirius looked back at her, trying but failing miserably to calculate what she was planning. "Oh, yeah? Like what?"

Hermione smiled in a wide, evil grin. "Nothing that you wont find out sooner or later." She answered cryptically.

Briskly, Hermione walked off, pleased with herself, and leaving a confused and extremely apprehensive Sirius behind her. Oh, she was going to have so much fun with this.

**I tried to make this a little longer for you guys. Is it okay? Again, I apologize for taking so long on it! I will try my best to get another chapter out within 10 days, but I can't make promises. Love you all!**

**xoxo,**

**luvseanfaris**


	11. Going Back

**I'm not going to spend forever writing apologies, but just know I'm really sorry but I can't really think of any ideas for the story. This'll be either the last chapter, or the second to last. Sorry, but my ideas are dwindling. Thanks to: screwtheperfectlife, Serendipity-England-1922, debarie (**thank you soo much for being faithful, and i'm soo sorry!**), MiKaYGiRl, amrawo, uk-thai-babe, and chipped-nails (**thanks for reviewing my stories like every chapter! You're the greatest!**).

* * *

**

Once Hermione was out of eyesight of Sirius, she sprinted up to the Gryffindor Tower, arriving at the Fat Lady, but realized that she didn't know the password. "Damn it!" she said in frustration.

"I'm sorry dear, but that's not it." The portrait said serenely.

She was enjoying this, which infuriated Hermione. "Just please let me in. you know I'm a Gryffindor! I need to get away from this guy that I know things about. He's going to come after me—please?" Hermione pleaded.

The Fat Lady seemed to ponder this. "Just because I like you, honey. But don't tell anyone else about this."

Hermione nearly collapsed in gratitude. "Thank you! I owe you one!"

"Where've you been?" a low voice said from the armchair by the fire.

"_Harry's chair!" _Hermione thought with a gasp, for sitting in this one was none other than his father.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked innocently.

"Padfoot was going crazy wondering where you were. Well, nevermind that. So you're from the future, are you?" he questioned rhetorically.

"Um—who told you that?"

"Well, Padfoot did, but we all knew it. You are very inept when it comes to hiding things, Granger." James said, smirking.

"Oh be quiet." She noticed James had the same sort of knowing smile that Harry had. She suddenly felt her eyes tearing up. "Oh, James, I don't know what to do!" she cried.

He looked at her oddly, but didn't say anything. Hermione, feeling miserable all of a sudden, walked over to the couch and hugged her knees to her chest. She hadn't noticed James come over and wrap his arm around her. Not in a romantic way, per se, but more in a Harry-type friendship one. She laid her head on his Quidditch-enhanced chest, and he just held her.

"James, I miss them so much." Hermione confided after a few minutes. She didn't know precisely why he seemed so comforting, but she supposed it was just because he was eerily similar to Harry, who also happened to console her when she broke down like this.

"It'll be alright." He said awkwardly. Truth was, he admitted to himself, he wasn't really one to simply comfort girls without 'getting to know them better'. He had just felt so bad for her; she looked terrible, and even though they hadn't known each other long, it felt like they had been friends for a long time.

"No it won't." Hermione said sadly. "I don't know how to get back! I mean, I want to stay here, but I need them!"

"I know. I'll help you find out how, how's that?" he suggested.

She looked up at him through watery eyes, and although she didn't have the heart to smile, her eyes held gratitude. "Thanks, James. You're a real sweetheart when you get down to it, you know. Just like Harry." she added quietly.

"What was it you wanted to find out?" James asked curiously.

Hermione looked down, wondering if what she would tell him would seriously alter the future. "I just needed to warn Sirius about something. And to say I'll really miss you. and so will my best friend. More than you'll ever know. Just remember that he loves you more than anything else and he wishes you could have been in his life for longer." She started to rack into sobs again.

James looked at her in confusion, but didn't press it. However, he did have a horrible sense of foreboding and terror in his stomach, and he didn't like it at all. "Shh. Just tell me what you want me to do." He said reassuringly, kissing her lightly on the top of her head. Unfortunately, someone chose to walk in at just that moment.

"What are you doing!" Sirius exclaimed, letting the portrait crash.

"Sirius?" Hermione asked, looking sadly up at him, but not getting up from the couch.

"Padfoot, seriously, you have to believe me, we weren't doing anything." James said sincerely.

"And that's why you two were making out, right?" Sirius accused.

"Sirius, no! I just have to tell you something! Something important! If you don't listen to me, you could very well die!" Hermione cried desperately.

Something in Sirius's heart broke, and he stared at her, only to see sadness and urgency in her cloudy, almond eyes. "What?"

"James, could you—" Hermione asked.

"Yeah. No problem." James replied, sparing a glance between the two of them and getting up.

"Sirius. It will seem very strange to hear this, but please, for your own sake, remember it. There will be a night in the future where you will be participating in a battle of sorts. You will get into a spell fight with someone you know—not one of your friends—and they will hit you with a curse and you will—you will—you wont fair well. Just don't act cocky but defend yourself with all you can. _Please, _Sirius. It's insanely important that you remember this. Please!" she admitted.

Sirius stared at her in astonishment and fear. "Why—why are you telling me this?"

"Because! I don't want anything to happen to you! Because—I—I think I've fallen in love with you." Hermione said, lowering her eyes.

His eyes widened slightly in shock, but he recovered. He took over James's spot and took her hand. "I love you too, Hermione Granger."

She looked up at him, and kissed him indulgently on the lips, only to find them tasting of some sort of sweetness and apples. He took hold of her back and pulled her closer, intensifying their bond, and he found her pleasantly replying with a force all her own—granted, more forceful than he anticipated.

She broke away harshly, and looked up at him. "But I have to return to my own time, Sirius. I belong there. I can't spend my life with you for risk of changing the future. I'm so sorry, but I can't. but I'll always love you."

Sirius showed no emotion on the outside, but Hermione saw a heart-wrenching emotion appearing terribly in his dark eyes that she could not handle. She looked away in shame, but he tilted her head up so she had no choice. This was her hardest decision, and she couldn't believe she was making it. After all, Sirius _was _her best friend's godfather, and Hermione and his relationship was wrong on more than one level.

"And I you. Just promise to say the same thing to me in the future. I know it will seem odd, but please? Hopefully I'll remember you. I know we can't have a relationship when you return, but just remind me of how great it was when you came back here. Please?"

"I promise. I have to go make the potion that will return me, Sirius. I will come back to say goodbye. Oh, and I'd watch that rat Pettigrew's future actions if I were you. Just a heads up." She said warningly as she exited the portrait hole.

She arrived at the Library a couple minutes later, and reluctantly pulled the correct book off the Library shelf, brushing the dust and spiderwebs off of its cover. She sighed heavily as she flipped to the corresponding page. Smoothing the crinkled paper out, she read the title: Time Defyer Potion. She stared apprehensively at it, and was surprised to note that it did not have many ingredients—most of them she would be able to find in the Potions stores.

* * *

"Professor? May I borrow a few ingredients from you?" Hermione asked hesitatively, standing by the dungeon room door. She was extremely happy that Snape did not teach it yet. Now it was a teacher by the name of Professor Joshua Jacobson. He was a brown, short-haired man, probably in his early 30s Hermione guessed, had a handsome, softly chiseled face, and wore robes of a deep, midnight blue. Overall, he seemed pleasant enough. 

He peered down at her from his over 6-foot height. "Oh. Yes, I suppose. Schoolwork, I'm assuming?"

"Oh. Y—Yes." Hermione stuttered. Technically it was schoolwork. Well, sort of. She was learning anyways. "I'll just be quick."

"Very well. Good luck, Ms. Granger, was it?" he asked in his deep voice.

"Yes. Thank you!" she said as she ran out the door.

Running into the fourth floor bathroom (since everyone was at lunch now), she set up her cauldron and the ingredients around her. Shakily, she poured in the teaflies, the crushed Tibetan beetle shells, one small pinch of sopohorous (Hermione assumed this was so the drinker did not get dizzy, but instead feel drowsy), and essence of fluxweed, which the book specified was used in potions of constant change, which of course fit with time travel potions.

She watched eagerly as the liquid bubbled, then with a crack turned a vivid, sparking red, after which a shower of embers floated through the air. It was, Hermione had to confess, very different from the potion to go back in time, but she knew she brewed it correctly, and corked two tablespoons of the solution.

Getting up after Vanishing the cauldron, she ran back to the Library to return the book, and arrived again at the Gryffindor Tower, which, thankfully, a third year boy was just getting out who held it open for her. The Fat Lady was glaring at Hermione with a look of amusement and disappointment, but Hermione sneered right back at her.

She smiled as she saw James, Sirius, and Remus looking back at her, all three of them having jumped up from their sitting positions. Her smile immediately faded into a scowl as she noticed Peter, who shrunk into the shadows. She turned to James, whom she gave a friendly, lengthy hug, her eyes already having tears in them. How she would miss him. She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, to which she smiled at his obvious joking at having put his hand up to his face in mock surprise.

Remus was next. He held out his hand to shake hers, but she dismissed it and gave him a light hug, causing him to awkwardly do the same. He gave her a knowing, reassuring look, and she could have sworn those were her old Professor's eyes staring back at her.

Last was Sirius. Not wanting to make the goodbye longer than it had to be, she gave him an impetuous kiss full of feeling, sorrow, love, and longing. James made a fake gagging sound, and Remus turned away, probably more for Sirius and Hermione's privacy more than his own sanity. Still, she smiled at James, who returned it. Giving one last loving look to Sirius (and a glaring, hatred-filled one to Pettigrew), she felt tears fall down her cheeks as she uncorked the bottle.

Throwing it down on the ground and watching it shatter as the liquid absorbed into the floor, she thought it didn't work for a second. Then, all of a sudden, a thick cloud of emerald green smoke enveloped her. However, it was not before she saw James waving a sarcastic goodbye to her, though she could see that he would miss her terribly; Remus giving a subtle nod, and Sirius with an impassive look on his face that only made Hermione sadder.

With a rush of cold air, she watched all three boys' faces start to blur, until all she could see was the seemingly corporeal wall of green in front of her. Slowly, images began to pop up into her head: James holding her and compassionately kissing her head, telling her it would be okay; Remus finding her crying in the hallway and giving her sagely advice; Peter cowering; and Sirius caringly making out with her in the Common Room, disregarding any prying eyes.

Abruptly, his head slid out of focus, and a pair of apple-green eyes came rushing into her thoughts, followed by a head of untidy black hair and a grinning, handsome face. Hermione smiled (though she wasn't sure if she really did), as another, red-haired, blue-eyed face came smiling uncertainly into her head.

Suddenly, she was thrown upon the ground, and surprisingly, she was in the Gryffindor Common Room. She looked up at where she and James had sat previously, and there she saw a mess of black hair, who turned around abruptly at the new arrival. Grinning wildly, Hermione ran over to him and hugged him heavily, to which he seemed shocked at her greeting, but hugged her back all the same. He looked at her, surprised to see her glittering, excited eyes.

"Oh, Harry! I missed you so goddamn much!" Hermione squealed as she hugged him again.

"Me too, Hermione, but you weren't gone but a minute and a half. I don't know what you're talking about." Harry said, looking strangely at her.

"Wh—What?" Hermione asked. She couldn't believe it. Had she really changed the future that much? This was horrible! Hermione just about broke into tears again.

"Hermione, calm down. I was just kidding! You've been gone for days. How'd it go? I really was worried about you, you know. What'd you find out?" Harry asked, looking at her stricken face.

She playfully punched him on the arm. "Harry you dork! That wasn't funny! Well, I—" she blushed a fierce crimson as she thought of Sirius. "ImadeoutwithSirius." She mumbled incoherently.

"You WHAT!" Harry exclaimed, jumping up like he had just touched a white-hot iron.

"Sorry, Harry. It just sort of happened. In my defense, I did warn him about the Department of Mysteries! I told him to not be cocky and defend himself against Bellatrix! Well, I didn't say her name, but I told him to be careful. Doesn't that count for anything? Also, it was 17-year-old Sirius, not the older Sirius. But—oh, Harry! I promised I would remind him of our relationship! Oh, Harry, this is horrible!" Hermione realized, breaking down into sobs again.

She had promised him. She had promised him that she would tell Sirius's older counterpart of their feelings, and now he was dead. She didn't know why he didn't take her advice seriously, but all she knew now was that there would always be an empty place in her heart…an empty place where Sirius was supposed to be. She barely felt Harry's reassuring hand on her hair. All she could feel was how she could have stayed behind with him and had a wonderful life.

"Hermione? What are you talking about? Sirius is alive."

"What?"

* * *

**Okay, last chapter will be shortest, because it'll just be an Epilogue sort of thing. Hope this was okay. And, again, I'm sorry it took so long.**


	12. Epilogue

**Omg—thanks to chipped-nails for my first review on this chapter! Okay, this is kinda going to be odd, because it will switch pov's, but bear with me.**

**Thanks also to: debarie, and hermionegranger2007. I think this will be my last herm/sirius fic, because I've kind of run out of ideas. Sorry :

* * *

**

"I told you. Sirius is alive." Harry repeated patiently.

"B—Bu—But—I—He wasn't—" Hermione stuttered.

Was Harry telling the truth? Because if he wasn't, it was a really low lie and she didn't think she could ever forgive him. However…maybe Sirius did take her advice? That would be extraordinary. She could go see Sirius again! Granted, he wouldn't be the same, but she'd be able to keep her promise! Harry had better not have been lying…

"I know. Maybe he did take your warning, Hermione." Harry said, still amazed Hermione came back safely.

Harry also couldn't believe Sirius was alive. It was the oddest feeling—Harry had _seen _Sirius die! He didn't believe this was possible.

_Harry sat by the Common Room fire all alone; Ron had gone out to practice Quidditch, and truth was, he needed it. He was suddenly aware of a tapping at the window, and he looked outside to see his snowy owl, Hedwig. He rushed over to open it, wondering who would send him a letter._

"_Thanks, Hedwig." He said, giving her a pat as she flew off again._

_He curiously opened the letter, for all it said on the front was 'Harry Potter'. As he read, he just about dropped it in surprise:_

_Harry, (the letter read)_

_Just wanted to let you know that I'm out of St. Mungo's—it seems Fudge granted me innocent, which is long overdue—and if you wanted to come over to Headquarters, we're having a little celebration…don't ask me why, because I don't know, considering my dear old cousin Bellatrix got away, along with Voldemort. Anyway, send Hedwig back with your answer._

_-Sirius_

_Harry would have considered this a really bad joke, if it hadn't been Sirius's writing and his customary paw print. He would just have to go to the Order of the Phoenix to find out._

"I still can't believe it." Hermione squeaked after Harry told her the story.

"You should come too, Herm." Harry said, forgetting her dislike of the nickname. "It's tonight. Since we're both over 17 now, we're allowed to Apparate. I already asked Dumbledore if we can, and he said it was fine." Harry added, looking at Hermione's distrustful face. "But will you come?"

"Yeah, I will." Hermione said decisively. "So, you up for Exploding Snap?"

* * *

Harry looked at her oddly at her suggestion for a game that he usually played with Ron, but shrugged and dealt the cards out anyway.

Harry showed Hermione the piece of parchment that read:

_The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix_

_may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London._

He told her to memorize it, then he set fire to it with his wand tip. As soon as she got to the address part of the letter, a gray door appeared, and they walked inside to cheers and laughter. Mrs. Weasley came bustling up to them, rosy blotches appearing in her cheeks (they assumed she had consumed a bit of alcohol).

"Harry! Hermione! So glad you could make it! Come on dears, everyone's in there." She said happily, pointing into the dining room.

They walked inside, and at once Sirius caught Hermione's eye. She motioned for them to go outside, and he made some sort of excuse to leave. Harry glanced at the two of them, but then got deep into a conversation with Lupin and Ron.

"Sirius. I made you a promise a long time ago. I don't know if you remember, but—" she started, but he cut her off.

"Of course I do. That's how I knew to duck dear Bellatrix's curse. Thank you. You saved my life." He said gratifyingly.

"This is too awkward, Sirius. It doesn't feel right…at all. It's uncomfortable. You're Harry's _godfather _for god sakes!" Hermione exclaimed.

She couldn't however, ignore the burning feeling behind her eyes coming forth at the sight of him. He wasn't the same man she knew in the past—she realized that. But he still had the same laughing, carefree expression in his dark eyes, and for the first time since knowing him, she saw right past the Azkaban-influenced gaunt face, the unkempt hair, and the shabby clothes. She just saw a messy but cared for head of hair, eyes that you could very well lose yourself in, and a muscular, tanned physique.

For just about the billionth time in the past few days, Hermione's chestnut eyes fogged over again with endless tears. Only one fell, and in the light it was impossible to see. To her chagrin, she found that the empty place in her heart had not been filled, but instead felt more hollow and desolate. This wasn't what she imagined her meeting with Sirius to be like. She didn't know exactly how she wanted it, but this was not in her preference.

The feeling of having something so uncharted…such an odd yet lust-filled relationship grow to loving extremes, just to have it ripped away like it had never happened. It was enough to make one's heart burst into a million pieces. And, indeed, that's what Hermione's felt like. She wished she could just take Ron, Harry, Fred, George, and Ginny with her to go back to the past. She would have everything she wanted. Sure, there would be times when she would miss her parents and even (though she didn't want to admit it), the arguments with Malfoy. But she would have her Sirius. And Harry would have his father again, if as more of a friend than a parent. It was paining her something fierce inside.

"I know, Hermione. But we will always have the past to remember."

"Yeah…the past…"

A single tear fell slowly down her cheek, glistening in the lamplight, then was gone in an instant…just like her and Sirius.


End file.
